Freezer Dream
by neuroi
Summary: Ichimatsu has a nightmare. (First thing I've written since 2014 ayyy.)


All of the sounds which had normally seemed uproarious and overwhelming were muffled, as if he were underwater. They were incomprehensible, the words the men spoke around the well-lit room, and their own echoes made them even harder to make out. The enclosing space was larger than the room the men shared at home, and yet it felt cozy. The warm browns of the wood grain walls would have soothed him, were he not startled by the surreal nature of the noise that surrounded him. The countless taxidermy animal heads lining the walls added to the unsettling quality of the scenario, and he felt as though their dead eyes were fixed on him when he turned away from them. He didn't react. He had always tried his hardest not to react to anything. He approached the round table where five men sat in five chairs. There was no seat for him. He looked around at the familiar faces of his brothers. They seemed to be getting along better than usual. Even the most high-strung brother was alight with a cheerful smile, but Ichimatsu could not hear what they were all so happy about. Their voices remained unclear. None of them seemed to notice the way he loomed over them, hunching over between his two younger siblings. They went on laughing their distorted laughs. Ichimatsu grasped at a shoulder, clothed in yellow cotton.

"Jyuushimatsu."

The face that turned toward him was unlike anything he could conceive of from his brother. The big grin he had previously born contracted into a distinctive frown. His normally bright eyes were filled with a dull hatred that froze Ichimatsu in place. He didn't say a word. The other four went on, joking in those warped voices, with their laughter that sounded like it came from a decades old toy. After what seemed like an eternity under that cold gaze, Jyuushimatsu turned back to the center, resuming his joviality with the rest. He looked like himself again. Ichimatsu dared not reach for him again. He couldn't move. He was paralyzed from the neck down, numbed, left standing in place behind his brothers. All he could feel was the corners of his mouth spreading wide into a grimace, his clenched teeth exposed. Then he felt something else. A tear rolled down his cheek, cool against his hot skin. That, he felt distinctly. That one tear remained imprinted in his mind as more began to flow, soaking his cheeks which he could not reach up to wipe with his sleeve. Then, in an instant, like turning the page of a book, he was back in his own bed.

"Nii-san?" Jyuushimatsu lay beside him, staring with wide eyes. They didn't show their usual energy, which made it clear he had noticed something wrong. Ichimatsu noticed that he had been sobbing in his sleep.

"Sorry." The last thing he had wanted was to wake one of his brothers, especially over some ridiculous nightmare, so he tried to dismiss his emotions as hastily as possible. He withdrew the grimace, hiding his eyes beneath the comforter they all shared. "Go back to sleep."

Ichimatsu felt some commotion from beneath the blankets. Jyuushimatsu was wriggling closer to him. The last thing Ichimatsu wanted was to be doted on, but he couldn't escape now. He might wake someone else, and before he knew it the whole family would be awake. He only wanted to forget about this, not to be teasingly reminded of it for eternity. He had to surrender to his brother's firm arms wrapping their way around him, and his cheek being pressed into his younger sibling's chest. The two of them were still and silent in the darkness. Ichimatsu felt calm, almost happy. He nestled his face into a comfortable position against the breast of Jyuushimatsu's pajamas. He could trust his brother, couldn't he? Jyuushimatsu had always harbored more sympathy for him than any of his other brothers. He was the only one Ichimatsu felt he could consider a friend.

His head started to throb, more annoying than painful, and the way the tears had washed away the sleep from his eyes made him feel as though he couldn't return to his slumber. His eyes simply wouldn't stay closed. In the darkness, his mind wandered. He cursed the dream he'd had, and he cursed himself for being so affected by it. He should have known it was a dream from the start. He should have wondered how he got to such a strange place when he had just been in his own home. He should have recognized that his brothers could never really get along so well. It was pathetic of him to cry over such a thing. He scolded himself internally. He told himself that he was weak, that he would never get anywhere in this world if he couldn't even dream without crying. It was all downhill from there. He remarked that nobody liked people like him - gloomy, unmotivated men who can't even be bothered to brush their hair in the morning. He would never have friends, a job, or a girlfriend. Who would want someone like him around? He wasn't worth the effort. He would stay here forever, in his parents' home, struggling along with these brothers who rarely showed any sympathy for one another. At least it was a fun life. He really did love his brothers, for the most part. He just couldn't shake the feeling that they didn't love him. The bonds of family can only do so much, and he doubted he had given them any reason to care for him beyond the obligation they had as siblings. Through and through, he was unlikable, never contributing anything aside from a careless one-word thought. He told himself he had no worth. His loneliness was deserved. He hadn't noticed the way his stomach had started to churn, and before he knew it he was suppressing more sobs. _Damn it, damn it._ He shouldn't have kept thinking. He should have just gone to sleep. He tried to wriggle out of Jyuushimatsu's grasp to stifle his voice in his pillow, but his efforts backfired. Not only did Jyuushimatsu jolt awake, but in his struggle he had kicked the brother on his other side. He attempted to play dead, going limp within his brother's grasp.

A deep, groggy voice spoke. Ichimatsu had forgotten which brother had taken up the space beside him, but of course it turned out to be the one he least wanted near him. "What's going on?"

"I think Ichimatsu-nii's having nightmares."

"Oh?" The voice sounded more awake already. The blankets shuffled in the dark as Karamatsu said up, and Ichimatsu felt a hand prod at him. "Maybe it would help if I sang him a lullabye."

"Keep your damn lullabye to yourself, Shittymatsu." Ichimatsu retaliated. He was glad he wasn't face-to-face with his brother. If Karamatsu caught glimpse of his tear-stained face in the darkness, it would take all the credibility out of his insults.

Jyuushimatsu lifted Ichimatsu off the bed by his armpits, thrusting his body into Karamatsu's lap like a bag of flour. Karamatsu in turn lifted him up to rest the back of his skull against his brothers chest, keeping his arms clasped around Ichimatsu's midsection.

"Let go, Shittymatsu." Ichimatsu hissed, "I'll kill you, Shittymatsu. You know I-"

Jyuushimatsu slammed the palm of his hand over Ichimatsu's mouth. Ichimatsu gave up on finishing his sentence. He briefly considered licking his brother's hand, hoping he would let go, but he knew a little saliva was nothing to his brother. His hand felt sticky against Ichimatsu's face anyway, and he didn't want to find out what they tasted like. He surrendered, and Jyuushimatsu began to hum softly. Ichimatsu didn't react until Karamatsu joined in, adding lyrics over Jyuushimatsu's voice as if it were an instrument. Ichimatsu tried his hardest to look mean. This was stupid. He was stupid for being upset, and Karamatsu was stupid for thinking anybody wanted to hear his stupid lullabye, but the anger that bubbled inside him was small and weak. Karamatsu's voice was reassuring. When he was quiet, solemn and undramatic, his words flowed pleasantly like water in a stream passing over its pebbles. The song bore a tone of innocence, of the tender love of a child for his family. Even if it came from Karamatsu's mouth, it was comforting to Ichimatsu's ears. He tried to ignore the music, to deny its consoling presence. He thought of other things. He thought of fires, of cuts flowing with metallic blood, but as the lyrics met his ears the red gave way to blue and he pictured scattered clouds above his head, and the wooden floor of a ship's deck separating him from the ocean below him. He imagined the waves lapping against the ship's sides, rocking him like a baby in a cradle, and by then it was over. Without his awareness, his eyes had slid shut, eyelids sneaking over his retinas like traitorous spies. In the slumber that had overtaken him, he never noticed as his brother gently lifted his body and placed it back into its regular position. Nobody would know that the pitch-black fourth son had been bawling in his sleep the night before.


End file.
